What Do People Do All Day, Part II

So um, we had a rush this morning of people, and after they all left we were cleaning up and found this:I'm sorry, but did someone leave their jar of moonshine on the table in the men's section? Is that actually a jar of the 'shine?

Some questions:

#1 Who thinks, "Shopping at J.Crew? Better bring my 'shine!"

#2 Who is shopping at 2:52pm on a Monday who is also drinking 'shine? This is mom's from Biltmore Village time.

#3 Why didn't they bring me any?

#4 Are they going to come back and say, "Excuse me, I was in earlier and I left my 'shine, did someone turn it in?

#5 Moonshine? Really? Couldn't do the civil thing and drink gin and tonic out of a Sprite bottle?

(the title of these posts are taken from a favorite children's book of mine by Richard Scarry)

What Do People Do All Day?

Apparently, what people do all day is something akin to this.
At least this is what my co-workers and I did this weekend.
We doubled my already existing rubber band ball.

Cool.

I Hope They Have Beer in Heaven

For 4 years, the last weekend in June meant one thing, that thing that would cause friends to travel great distances and promote the usage of vacation days, a holiday unlike any other:

The Old Dominion Beer Festival.

You may laugh, but this truly was a very, very special weekend event. It would start on Friday around 5pm and ended Sunday at 7pm and those three days were chockablock full of music, food, cigars, an inevitable sunburn, probably a rain shower or two and, of course, lots and lots of beer to sample...fifty breweries in fact. It was summer. After the festival we'd go inside the brewery to fill our growlers and get dinner (as Brandt is doing after the 2006 festival. That's five growlers he is holding; I have four myself).

That all changed in March, 2007 when Old Dominion Brewery was bought out, with Coastal City Brewing Company getting a 51% share and good old Anheuser-Busch getting 49%.
Last May I got online, looking up the musical acts for the 11th annual ODB fest only to find it wasn't happening...they blamed construction. They said, "Don't worry! We'll be back and bigger than ever next year!"

Today is supposed to be the big day of ODB fest.
I should be sitting at a picnic table, stuffing my face with a funnelcake and downing my 12th sample of Some Kind of Awesome Beer with all my friends, but no.
There is no joy in Mudville, ODB Fest is no more more.
I hate you, Anheuser-Busch. Hate you.

(Romano and Seany in happier times, standing with glorious kegs of ODB goodness)

Note: Asheville has the Brewgrass Festival in September, celebrating all things bluegrass and beer-ish, but Brandt (guy with the growlers) is a slimy bastard and is getting married in Virginia the same day as Brewgrass. Bah.

The Houses

If I had a million dollars I'd buy a cabin on a secluded lake in the high peaks region of New York and I'd go there in the summer and fall for several weeks and paddle around, fly fish, and work on writings. I'd take two hours to eat a meal. I'd wear an old flannel shirt early in the morning like the lake wears its early morning fog. I'd know all the bird calls by name. I'd have a reading chair by a wood stove and a big ceramic mug for coffee.
If I had a million dollars I'd have a house within walking distance of downtown Asheville and I'd have everyone over for a cookout and my house would be full of friends. We'd play lawn games and dance and laugh and stay up too late around a campfire because no one would want to leave.
I'd want both.
Sometimes in the very same moment.

Window Shopping

When I was an intern for the consulting firm in Reston one of my favorite things to do on my lunch break was window shop. I loved to walk by the stores and see the wares they peddled in new and exciting outfits, see the life they pretended to sell because most of the time I'd find myself wanting it to some degree or another (but usually it made me dislike what I already owned). I liked the life they showed me.

That's what window shopping is, isn't it? It's selling a life and a lifestyle; it's this perfect dream world where the most fashionable clothes fit in all the right places and no one is ever alone. And it is separated from you only by a pane of glass; something clear and virtually invisible keeps you from the life you might want. Window shopping introduced something into our conscious we hadn't known before: suspended gratification. Not instant to be sure, but suspended and we live in it daily. I'll be happy when I have a nicer car, I have a newer phone, I have the best Mac, the best outfit, those shoes. “I'll be happy when I have...” joined our lexicon. We let happiness be suspended in front of us like the carrot in front of the donkey.

And we don't just do it with material items, we do it with ideas and immaterial goods. I'll be happy when I have the boyfriend/fiance/husband, the best job, the perfect kids, this big project is done, summer finally comes, the best group of friends, the most adventurous Saturday night, whatever it may be. “When I am prettier, when I am more popular, when I am better off, when I am respected then I will be...” and we fill in the blank with every good emotion we can make up. We window shop ideas and ideals. We let ourselves believe that The Next is what is bringing happiness and it never does; we somehow put all of our worth in our immediate happiness. We do this much more quietly than I am referencing; most of us aren't that blatant.
I am completely guilty; I put worth and hope, time and energy into potentials and I window shop at the storefronts that Hollywood and 5^th Avenue sell me. I am sold those lies and I dutifully take them like communion.

I have to say that one of the happiest times in my life was when I didn't own much more than what was on my back, I was single but in a community and thus rarely alone and my work stayed at work and my life lived the rest. It had nothing to do with stuff or what my stuff said about me, it had to do with me and that's it. My worth truly was in Christ. I wish I could get rid of all of window shopping and finally get back to this business of simply being wholly gratified with right here.